Crimson White
by Mira Ruskin
Summary: A gruesome tragedy. Hojo returns and finds Tifa, Vincent, and Cloud in his grasp. What will become of his latest experiments?


**Crimson White**

_**By Mira Ruskin**_

**Notes: Well, this was a last minute decision to whip up. I had wanted to do something about FFVII for a while, and this seemed fine. Vincent, Tifa, and Cloud are my all time favorite characters, so I did something for them. I believe this could take place after the game, before the movie. Anyway, I used some quotes in there, so I need to cite who said them so I don't get in trouble. Thank you Lois McMaster Bujold for your quote from _Diplomatic Immunity, 2002._ Thank you Plato, for your question from _Dialogues, Phaedo._ And thank you Tohru and Hatori for your speech from _Fruits Basket_.**

Cloud blinked away the snowflakes that had collected on his thick lashes. His gaze had fallen to the thick ice covering the water below him. It hadn't been long since he'd been waist-deep in that water, letting go of what he needed most. He ran a gloved hand through his blonde hair. Too much snow had collected on it. He had been standing there for quite some time.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he looked to the sky. A vast expanse of dark, royal blues and sleight grays, dotted by specks of white that fell softly to a frozen ground stretched over the tops of the trees. The cold didn't bother him, and that was a good thing. The temperature was bitter freezing. He wished Vincent would hurry up. Cloud needed to talk to someone, and Vincent could be rather philosophical at times. He could put things into perspective.

The crunch of footsteps in the snow caught Cloud's attention, "You're late," he called. His voice was low, tinged with a hardened sorrow he'd felt for too long. He listened closely; the footsteps had taken on a different sound. He dared not turn around yet, but instead placed a hand on the hilt of his buster sword.

Whoever was approaching him was doing so at a slow, shuffling rate. The ice behind Cloud gave a groan, signaling a large amount of weight had been added. Cloud narrowed his eyes. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a large _thud_, followed by another, lighter one.

Quickly spinning around, Cloud's fell upon a horror of a scene. Vincent lay in the snow, a trail as crimson as his cloak following jaggedly behind him. He was barely breathing. His cloak was red to begin with, but now it looked different, wet. His eyes were closed.

Tifa was at his side. Her normally white shirt was torn, and stained a deep wine red. Her hands were covered in blood. She was standing on her hands and knees, her black bangs falling into red eyes that shed tears of pain, suffering.

Cloud rushed over, and dropped to his knees beside them, He rolled Vincent into his lap. He seemingly needed the most help. Cloud's eyes found their way to Tifa's. He looked at her, a shock on his face that was enough to ask her what happened. The look she returned was one of utter sadness, almost defeat.

"Hojo," she whispered, as if the name would call him to her.

"Hojo?" Cloud returned, anger, rage, and denial all lacing his voice, "But-"

"They did something to him," she cut Cloud off, motioning toward Vincent, whom had opened his eyes upon behind rolled over.

"The dead cannot cry out for justice; it is the duty of the living to do so for them," Vincent spoke, his voice hoarse, yet wet at the same time. His teeth were crimson, and a bubble of blood formed in the corner of his mouth. With a nasty cough that sounded from deep within his lungs, he wretched up a thick mouthful of blood. Tifa let out a sob, and quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Cloud asked, his voice higher with fear, apprehension. Tifa shook her head, not wanting to say. In her mind, she was reliving what she had seen, what she had been through, what Vincent had been through.

Cloud returned his attention to Vincent, whose eyes were wild with a pain even Cloud could not imagine. The sound of bones moving, growing, and rearranging could be heard from deep within Vincent's tortured body. He grit his teeth, balling up his gloved fists in the snow, now dyed shades of red and deep pinks.

"Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?" Vincent asked through clenched teeth. Tifa's eyes widened with a mental image of how he got this way. Cloud looked at his friends with a promise of avengement. Whoever had truly done this to them would suffer beyond what his friends were feeling.

Vincent rolled roughly, suddenly and quickly away from Cloud. He landed on his hands and knees, his back arched with the rigidity of his tense muscles. He let out a sheer cry of pain, and set those wild eyes upon Cloud.

"Kill me, now!" He cried, crimson tears rolling down his pale cheeks. Cloud was beginning to become afraid. He watched as Vincent stared at him with a plea that Cloud didn't know if he could go through with. Tifa finally snapped to, and looked to Cloud.

"Hojo wasn't dead, but now he is. I took care of that, but Vincent had already been taking to the operating room. They gave him a new, different type of G Substance, and his body was rejecting it. Hojo would have killed him, but then I found him and," Tifa trailed off, lost in yet another memory.

Cloud turned in horror as the sound of ripping flesh echoed throughout the nearby area. A large pair of black, leathery wings burst forth in a crimson spray from Vincent's back. Tifa let out a cry, which turned Cloud's attention to her. Her eyes were changing. Her pupils became that of a cat, and she fell to the ground, passed out from pain. Cloud guessed she too had been caught and experimented upon.

"Ah, I knew they'd lead me to you," laughed a crazed voice behind Cloud. Cloud spun around, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He grit his teeth, and didn't move. He wouldn't have time to get his sword from his side.

A man he'd never seen before was grinning wickedly at him, "Kill the other two, and take this one. I want to see what that new form of Mako will do to his body," the man cackled. Finally Cloud recognized him, it was Hojo. It was hard to tell who it was at first. Lines of stitching, and horrible scars weaved all across his face. Cloud had really messed him up the first time, but now, somehow, Hojo had returned. The soldiers surrounding him proceeded to grab Cloud, and approach Tifa and Vincent.

"No!" Cloud screamed, as the guards advanced upon his friends.

The soldiers quickly disposed of Vincent, with a shot between his eyes. Tifa had started to wake up. A soldier stopped her from sitting up with a quick kick to her stomach. She lay, gasping for breath, and then no longer needed it when a round was unloaded into her chest.

Cloud must have been yelling, for the butt of a gun slammed into the back of his head. No longer could he hear, feel or do anything but see. He could only watch in horror, shock, and despair, as he fell and as his friends leaked the last of their life into the soft powder covering the frozen water.

When the ice melted, they would all be together, would they not? After all, what came after the harsh winter snow? A soft spring, of course. A spring with lilies, bright beautiful lilies.

_I'll be there soon_, he thought to himself. With all the water from the melting snow, that would be enough fort he flowers to grow. They would be beautiful and crimson white. Everything would be crimson white. Cloud could smile, already thinking of meeting them again. Blackness was looming over him, his mind on the brink of unconsciousness.

_Just a little while longer, please. I want to see the crimson white flowers…_

"And like blood on snow,

The flowers would grow,

A beautiful sight, the,

Crimson white."

-Mira Ruskin


End file.
